


Sickness

by ErisPhoenix



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fever, M/M, Nightmares, Poor Will panics, sick!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1347634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisPhoenix/pseuds/ErisPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone submitted a prompt to the lovely <a href="http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/">Madni</a> that asked for a flu stricken Hannibal, with Will trying to care for him. I just loved it so much, I stole it. [Link to Madni's version in notes.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sickness

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt read; "could i request sick hannibal with will caring for him? like really bad flu, flu that he hasn't had since he was a child. and in his fever he gets all delirious and he whines out for his mama and will lets his empathy get the best of him and he can feel hannibals sadness at the fact his mama isn't coming, and maybe you could get mischa in there somewhere and when hannibals all better will asks him about it and it ends all fluffy and yes."
> 
> Thank you to [Madni](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/), I hope you don't mind me pinching your prompt!

In the two years or so Hannibal and Will had been together, Hannibal had not been sick. Not once. Will had come down with a couple of colds, a migraine or two. Hannibal had cared for him without a word of complaint, waiting on Will hand and foot until he felt somewhat himself again.

So when Hannibal went to bed early, complaining of aches and pains, Will was quietly surprised. He had followed Hannibal upstairs, and climbed into bed with him, even though it was just past 8pm. Will had cuddled and soothed Hannibal as he slept; making sure his hand was gently stroking Hannibal’s spine right up until the moment Will could no longer stay conscious. At around 4am, Will had woken up as Hannibal pushed him away rather roughly whilst sleepily muttering something along the lines of “S’too hot, William.” Will didn’t take it personally, instead just rolled over to the edge of the bed, untouched and cool, falling back to sleep in seconds.

In the morning, Will woke slowly, glad it was a Saturday. He stretched leisurely, feeling all his joints pop, before slowly rolling over to gaze at Hannibal’s sleeping form. The first thing that Will noticed was the faint sheen of sweat covering the older man’s body, causing his hair to mat and stick to his forehead. Will sat up and shifted over to Hannibal’s side, placing a hand gently on his forehead. Despite how light the touch had been, it still startled Hannibal awake, much to Wills annoyance. It had fully been his intentions to let the psychiatrist rest as he looked so awful.

Hannibal shot Will a look of what could only be classed as annoyance, before rubbing at his face with his hand. “If you were checking me for a fever, William, I can safely tell you there is no need. I’m well aware my temperature is higher than it should be."

Will narrowed his eyes and clucked his tongue. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed, didn’t they Hannibal?” Will moved to the edge of the bed and stood up, grabbing a pair of pyjama pants to put on.

Hannibal watched his movements, his hand resting on his forehead. “I’m sorry, Will. I just don’t feel 100%. I think it’s just a viral fever, there’s nothing much I can do but sleep.”

Will regarded Hannibal from across the room and nodded. “You’re forgiven, I suppose. Do you need me to get you anything? Water? Aspirin?”

Hannibal shifted, pushing his pillows into a more comfortable position. “A glass of water and two ibuprofen will do fine.”

Will left the room slightly irked. He knew he shouldn’t take Hannibal’s shortness to heart; the man was sick. But still. A little niceness wouldn’t have killed him. Will retrieved the required items before trudging back upstairs, only to find Hannibal already asleep again. Will set the glass of water and two small pills down on the side table before going back downstairs, making sure to leave the bedroom door open a crack to make sure he could hear if Hannibal shouted for anything.

Will checked his watch, and decided Hannibal would be ok for a couple of hours if Will went to feed and quickly walk the dogs. Luckily, Will’s bag with clean clothing had been discarded in the hallway the previous evening, other priorities on his mind. He quickly pulled the rumpled clothing on in the living room, before writing Hannibal a short note and slipping out of the front door, shutting it softly.

The drive to his own home was uneventful, boring even. The dogs were exceedingly pleased to see him, and once they had been fed, Will spent some cuddle time with each of them. He stood up and opened the front door, before looking back at his pack with a grin on his face. “You all wanna go on a walk? Yeah? A walkies? We gotta be quick though, I don’t want to leave Hannibal alone for too long. C’mon, c’mon, out you get. Go!” The dogs barrelled past Wills legs, out the open door, barking and nipping at each other’s back legs playfully. Will whistled sharply, his pack following him towards the woods surrounding his house.  


Approximately an hour or so later, Will was pulling back into Hannibal’s driveway, his bag repacked with a new set of clean clothes, and the book from his bedroom crammed in for good measure. He never had much time for leisure reading, but with Hannibal down for the day, today could be his the perfect chance.

Will slipped into the house quietly, making sure his keys didn’t jangle and that he didn’t slam the heavy wood door. He toed off his shoes, pushing them so they sat roughly in line with Hannibal’s, and wandered into the living room, leaving his bag on the sofa. Before he settled down with a glass of Hannibal’s hand squeezed orange juice and the book he had brought from home, he went upstairs to check on his lover.  


When Will poked his head around the door, the first thing that hit him was the stifling heat. Without much thought he walked over to the window and opened it a sliver in an attempt to cool the room down. Will looked at Hannibal’s sleeping form and watched as his breaths came in small, slow puffs. Creeping closer so as not to wake the older man, Will noticed the sheen of sweat covering Hannibal’s body had become more pronounced. Will touched the psychiatrist’s cheek gently, finding the skin on fire. He moved his hand softly up to Hannibal’s forehead, finding the burning and sweaty skin disconcerting, and Will wondered if it would be worth calling out another doctor, just to make sure it was nothing serious. But Hannibal was a good doctor, and seemed to rarely be wrong. Will decided that he would just keep a very close eye on the man. He picked up the now empty water glass and walked into the bathroom to refill it, dampening a wash cloth with cold water to place against Hannibal’s forehead. Will walked back and placed the glass back on the side table, before reaching up and pushing Hannibal’s fringe away from his sticky forehead. The profiler made comforting, soft sounds as he gently placed the cloth against hot skin, letting his fingers gently caress Hannibal’s cheeks.

He decided to set up camp on the opposite side of the bed, so he was never too far away from his patient. Will giggled to himself as he collected his book and drink from downstairs, the thought of Hannibal being his patient for once seeming far too absurd. Will changed back into just his pyjama trousers before sitting on his side of the bed, the room finally seeming to have cooled down a fraction thanks to the light breeze coming in through the window. He read his book and drank his juice, glancing now and then at Hannibal’s face, which seemed constantly scrunched up in discomfort. Will also changed the cloth a couple of times, trying to make sure it stayed cool.

Will had been sat there for over 2 hours when he first heard the sound. A low, long, broken whine. It took him more than a minute to work out that the source was Hannibal. Will placed his book on the side table, and turned to face his lover. After about a minute, Hannibal made the sound again, his mouth open slightly, eyes screwed shut. The psychiatrist flopped heavily from the position on his side onto his back, his hands balling into fists. “Mama,” Hannibal whined in a broken voice. “Mama, no, no no.”

Will shifted so his was sat on his knees, and placed a hand on Hannibal’s cheek. “Hannibal? Hannibal can you hear me?” Will spoke softly so as not to startle the sick man, but his voice seemed to have no effect at all.

Hannibal pushed his head back roughly into the pillows, the cloth Will had been using to cool him slipping away. His exposed throat visibly strained, the skin covered in sweat just like the rest of him. He brought his fist up to his face, and pushed his knuckles into his eye. “Mamaaa, pažadėjo jis nebūtų sužeistas! Pažadėjo, Mama.” A choked sob broke free from his throat, the fist against his eye pushing harder. “Mama, no.”

Will felt a slight panic welling up in his chest, but fought to keep it down. He gently tried to pry Hannibal’s fist away from his face, worried that the sick man would damage his eye with the force he was exerting. “Hannibal, listen to me, you gotta try wake up. Hannibal,” Will leaned in close, his free hand stroking the still burning skin of Hannibal’s face and neck. “It’s just a dream, you gotta wake up,” Will continued with his soothing words, the panic in his chest growing by the minute. He had never seen Hannibal this vulnerable before, and it didn’t sit well with him. Will finally managed to slip his fingers under Hannibal’s fist and bring it away from his face, Hannibal’s fingers wrapping themselves tightly around Will’s own hand and squeezing.

“Mama,” Hannibal whined as another sob tore itself from his throat, “Let Mischa stay, pažadėjo Mama.”

Wills brain fought to keep up with the sudden language switches, his free hand still stroking Hannibal’s fevered skin. Will shook the hand that was being grasped in a death grip, in an attempt to get the sick psychiatrist to wake up. “Hannibal!” Will could hear the panic in his own voice, the way he grew louder with every passing second. “Hannibal, please, just wake up!” Will continued to shake his lover, but Hannibal did not seem to notice.

He turned his head violently, attempting to shove his face into the pillow. “Mama, come back! Norėti, Mamaaa.” Hannibal released Will's hand from the iron grip and turned to lay on his side, grabbing the blankets and pulling them up to under his chin, hiding his face in their softness. It took Will a moment to realise that Hannibal’s body was shaking from crying rather than another unknown force, and the profiler felt his heart break. Will tried in vain to pull the blankets away from Hannibal’s face, but his lover was a strong man, even when he was ill. Will took a moment and looked down at the sad sight before him, before realising his own cheeks were wet. He didn’t remember starting to cry, but perhaps Hannibal’s display had upset him more than he had thought. Will roughly wiped the back of his right hand across his face, before lying down next to the shaking form still hidden under the blankets. Will grasped Hannibal’s waist and tangled their legs together, the touch calming him slightly. Hannibal let the blankets drop, shoving them away from his body before shoving his face into Wills neck, breathing harshly. The profiler could do nothing but gently stroke Hannibal’s side with long, slow strokes whilst making what he hoped were comforting sounds. Will turned his face slightly and pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s clammy forehead.

“You’re ok Hannibal, you’re ok. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Will rocked slightly, like one would with a small child. After a few minutes, Hannibal’s panic seem to slowly dissipate, and he fell into a fitful sleep. Will considered getting up to dampen the cloth again, but didn’t want to do anything that would risk Hannibal waking up. So instead, he stayed. He stayed put for 2 more hours. He ignored the slight hunger in his tummy, remembering that he hadn’t eaten yet today, and he ignored the pressure that was slowly building in his bladder. Will stayed in the exact same position for the whole time, waiting for Hannibal to wake up of his own accord. Will’s own needs could wait.

When Hannibal did finally begin to stir, Will pulled back slightly, suddenly very aware that his close presence probably hadn’t helped the other man’s temperature come down. Hannibal rubbed his face into the pillow before opening one eye, a confused look gracing his features. “Will,” he started before taking a moment to clear his throat as best he could, attempting to ignore the grating dryness. “Will. I thought you had gone home?”

Will bought his hand up and stroked Hannibal’s face gently. “I just went home for a little while to feed the dogs. I’ve been here with you for the past 5 hours or so. Your fever seems to have lessened considerably.”  


Hannibal frowned deeply. “5 hours? I’ve been asleep for 5 hours?”

Will nodded. “And the two hours I was gone to feed the dogs. You’ve been pretty ill, Hannibal. Do you remember anything?”

Hannibal shifted his head so he could open both eyes and studied Will’s features. “The last thing I remember is waking up to take the pills you gave me, and listening to the sound of your engine start and drive away.”

Will pulled his hand away from Hannibal’s face and glanced at his watch, just to make sure. “Yeah, Hannibal, that would have been about 7 hours ago now. You really have been asleep this whole time. Well…”  


The crease in Hannibal’s brow deepened again. “Well what, Will?”

Will shifted slightly, turning slightly onto his back so he could stare up at the ceiling. “You had some sort of nightmare a couple of hours ago.” Will glanced back at Hannibal’s face, who motioned for him to continue with a mere flick of his wrist.

“You were… shouting. And…” Will cleared his throat, the sentence seeming to get stuck there. “And you were crying, and asking for you Mother.”

Will felt Hannibal move and pull away from him. The psychiatrist turned onto his back, joining Will in looking up at the ceiling. “I see. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt I’ve needed my Mother’s assistance.” Hannibal looked over to Will, only being able to catch the side of his face. “You must have been right when you said I was rather ill,” Hannibal chuckled darkly, his hand coming up to push his hair away from his forehead.

Will pursed his lips and nodded, well aware that he was being watched. “So. Who’s Mischa?” Will felt Hannibal stiffen and realised instantly he may have crossed a line, but continued hastily, against his best judgement. “It’s just – you were asking for her to stay. Begging, really…” It took a couple of minutes for Hannibal to answer. Will was cursing the silence the whole time, but he dared not move.

Hannibal took a deep breath, his hands idly playing with the edges of the sheets. “Mischa was my baby sister. She died when she was very young, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, being a mere child myself. When I was sick, Mischa used to climb onto my bed and bring her toys with her… finger puppets and wooden dolls. She would play with me like I did for her when she was ill. She would even try to read to me, but seeing as she was only 3 years old it was more a string of happy babbling. I cherished every moment with her.” Hannibal placed a hand over his eyes.

Will was stuck for what to say. He felt an intense sadness in his chest, slowly growing to envelop his whole body. Without thinking, he rolled onto his side and tugged Hannibal into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” Will whispered, pressing his forehead against Hannibal’s.

“It is not your fault, Will. I should have told you about her sooner. It’s just…” Hannibal paused, his fingers coming up to trace along Will’s jawline absentmindedly. “It’s just, her death has always brought me great pain. And it still does. It is not the easiest subject to talk about… My fever addled brain must have clasped onto child hood memories of comfort. I hope I did not distress you, my dear Will.”

Will exhaled a puff of air, a slight smile coming to his mouth. “I, er, no. No, you didn’t. I just wanted you to snap out of it.” The profiler decided to keep the part about his own tears quiet. Hannibal didn’t require that piece of information.

They stayed in the embrace for a few more minutes, Will’s hands resuming their earlier stroking of Hannibal’s spine. The day was slowly disappearing, and soon the sun would disappear entirely. Hannibal moved first, lifting his head to kiss the tip of Will’s nose. “My sweet William, as much as I enjoy lying here with you, I would positively kill for a shower.”

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit is welcome!  
> You can find Madni's response to this prompt [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1326202/chapters/2804881)
> 
> The Lithuanian should mean roughly the following;  
> "Pažadėjo jis nebūtų sužeistas" - You promised it would not hurt  
> "Pažadėjo" - You promised  
> "Norėti" - Please  
> Unfortunately I am not a natural at learning languages and had to use Google Translate. If you see any errors in the translating, please feel free to tell me!
> 
> Thank you all for reading. xo


End file.
